


That's Shakespeare, Nerd.

by warmommy



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alcohol, Astronomy, F/M, Shakespeare, because he's adorably obnoxious like that, quoting literature, smartass, star-gazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 12:19:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19394008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmommy/pseuds/warmommy
Summary: Lewis Nixon has a secret love for all things astronomy, and you have a secret love for all things Nixon.





	That's Shakespeare, Nerd.

The moonlight gave him a sort of blue cast. You’d just been passing by, really, hadn’t meant to notice, and now he’d caught you staring. You knew because he began to wave his lighter about rather than light the cigarette between his lips. 

“I swear I’m not being a bitch,” you called out. 

Finally, he lit the cigarette, lifted one eyebrow. “Just being a weirdo staring at men in the middle of the night?”

“Says the weirdo sitting around in a grass patch in the middle of the night.”

“Touché.” Nixon stuck out his hand and made a wild waving gesture. “C’mere, you’re gonna miss it.”

“Oh, were you actually looking at something up there?” 

“Jesus Christ.” He scoffed, groaned. “I’m not a Dick Winters, but that doesn’t make me a complete sloppy drunk.”

You chewed on your lip and took a few steps closer. “I watch the sky all the time. It sounds odd, but it makes me feel safer. Especially when there aren’t any Germans flying over, or dropping on us. Even better when there’s no artillery falling.”

“Oh, shit. Made me look like an asshole. Come sit down anyway, I actually am a bit drunk.” Nixon waved you over again. “That’s not what we’re looking at. Oh my _God_ , you move so slow.” 

With a laugh, you dropped down carefully beside him, shook your head when he lifted the silver hip flask your way. “What are we looking at, then?”

He draped his arm loosely over your shoulder, just smiling towards the stars again. “Best flashes you’ll ever see in this celestial sphere. Not a bomb, no strikes, just a meteor shower. Existed a lot longer than war.”

“Wow.” Even when his eyes lit up and he laughed and pointed upward above to the great wonder of cosmic dust, you didn’t look away from him.

“The bay-trees in our country are all withered, and meteors fright the fixèd stars of heaven. The pale-faced moon looks bloody on the earth, and lean-looked prophets whisper fearful change. Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap; The one in fear to lose what they enjoy, the other to enjoy by rage and war. These signs forerun the death or fall of kings.” He elbowed you, winked, turned his attention back to the sky. “That’s Shakespeare, nerd.”

All that beauty up there, and the brightest thing was still the light in Lewis Nixon’s eyes.


End file.
